


Crossroads

by DefinitelyNotStraight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Blood and Torture, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, F/F, Gen, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Mild Blood, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, Murder Family, Not Canon Compliant, Poison, Psychological Torture, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Rituals, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Slytherin, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Pride, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29219736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyNotStraight/pseuds/DefinitelyNotStraight
Summary: The world tries to tear these parts of Hermione out. Try to make her light and perfect.She finds a family who accept and complete her in ways she could never comprehend.And sort of forms a gang while she does it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger & Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 32
Kudos: 266





	1. Welcome Home

Hermione figured out that she was different when she was nine years old. Truly different, not just introverted and bookish like she had felt before.  
She was different, a different species even, an alien or god amongst boring humanity.  
A boy named Tyler pushed her over in the playground, her hands scraped raw on the tarmac, blood springing to the surface. It stung, and tears welled in dark hazel eyes at the pain, but she watched a droplet of blood trickle from her gashed palm down her wrist.  
It was beautiful, she thought, a tiny river of crimson just for her to watch, gleaming in the dim British sunlight.  
She could hear Tyler laughing, sneering at her for the tear that dripped down her tan cheek, calling her a cry baby.  
It made her angry, angrier than she had ever been, her eyes still on that drop of blood. Something was welling up inside her, burning up in the back of her head, like a volcano that was about to burst.  
Tyler threw a rock at her, and Hermione's eyes snapped to him. The rock stopped, hovering before Hermione's eyes and making her go cross eyed for a moment, before it fell to the ground with a dull thud.  
Tyler made a choked sound as something invisible threw him to the floor, his arm sliced open by pieces of glass that were most definitely not there before.  
The boy screamed, blood gushing from his arm, and the teachers all ran to his aid. One of them ran for Hermione, thinking that she had fallen too, and wiped the tear that was on her cheek and gently cleaned out the wounds in her hands while the teachers tried to stem the blood flow from Tyler while waiting for the ambulance.  
The boy made eye contact with Hermione, and she gave him a wink. His aborted whimpering sound that choked him brought a surge of hot satisfaction to the little girl, and swallowed down a giggle. 

Tyler needed 27 stitches.  
He never bothered Hermione again. 

That's the first night that Hermione sees the dark women in her dreams. One in a dress that glittered like stars, one with manic eyes and the darkest curls. 

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

When Hermione's Hogwarts letter arrived, followed quickly by the arrival of a tall man in dark robes, with a look of distaste for her parents, Hermione was overjoyed.  
Sure, she loved her parents, but they didn't understand her. They wanted a pretty pink princess for a daughter, instead of the bookworm they got.  
They took the news that she had magic with distaste, but Hermione was practically vibrating with excitement. She was right, she was right, she was right.  
The man, who introduced himself as Severus Snape, looked at Hermione and his lip twitches up, ever so slightly. Hermione beams, and she begs her parents with tears and tantrums to let her go.  
When they keep saying no, her temper flares and the light bulbs explode, littering them all in shards of glass that draw thin lines of blood from them.  
Once again, Hermione is transfixed, watching a droplet run down Mister Snape's nose. He watches her stare, and he let's out a hum of curiosity.  
Her parents look at her warily, and all the freak accidents that occurred when she was a child made sense.  
They said yes.  
Hermione hugs them, a total switch from her temper, and she launches herself at them for a hug, that they return. She doesn't even notice that their hands are shaking as they hold her, or that her Father can't quite look her in the eyes anymore. Snape leaves that night, but he leaves a book for Hermione, when she expresses her sheer enthusiasm for Potions. She sits up all night to read it, endlessly fascinated, until she collapses face first into the pages, fast asleep.  
That night again, she dreams a familiar dream of women in starry fabrics, and with unruly curls that looked soft to touch. 

Mister Snape comes back a few days later to take her to a place called Diagon Alley.  
It's on this day that her parents press a wallet full of notes for her to exchange. She notices that neither of them will look at her, and she frowns.  
"Bye." She tells them softly, sadly, then takes Snape's offered arm to lead her outside then down towards an abandoned alleyway.  
"Take a deep breath." He warns her, sort of gently, and she nods, closing her eyes and sucking in a breath so deep that her lungs ache. She is suddenly spinning, squeezed through a tube that is much too small for her, and only the reassuring pressure of Snape's arm in hers keeps her from panicking.  
Finally, she is flung out somewhere, and she opens her eyes carefully to see the most glorious place in the world.  
She let's go of the arm, and immediately toppled over to the side, and the gentle chuckles of her companion stop her from growling too much under her breath. The man holds out a hand, looking disinterested but she sees the sparkle in his eye that he can't hide.  
He takes her to a bank, where there are creatures that he says are goblins work, and they hand over the money that her parents had given her.  
The sack of coins exchanged was heavy, and Hermione almost drops it when it's pressed into her hand. Snape pulls out a stick (his wand, Hermione notes excitedly) and does a complicated motions, and suddenly the sack weighs nothing at all.  
"That was amazing!" Hermione squeaks, and the man just motions for her to carry on walking out of the building.  
He seemed the silent type, and Hermione didn't mind, normally she was too. Still, he answered all her questions, and they spent over an hour in the apothecary store, looking over all the ingredients and him telling her about each one.  
They buy her a bronze cauldron, and he praises her for sticking her nose up at the gold ones. He explains to her that only fools brew potions in gold, as it is an unreliable metal that reacts explosively with potions.  
The robe fitting was boring, but Hermione met a girl there with ash blonde hair, grey eyes and a button nose who said her name was Daphne Greengrass. The girl was nice, and explained some things that confused Hermione to her, and didn't act like she was scum like Snape warned her that some people might when she found out that Hermione was from a non-magic family. Instead she gave a smile, and her eyes blunted like she knew something that Hermione didn't.  
"You certainly don't have a muggleborn aura. That's a blessing." She tells Hermione, who raises an eyebrow but shrugs off her concerns. Daphne was nice, and sort of a friend, and Hermione refused to ruin that by being overly cynical.  
"Find me on the Hogwarts Express, okay? You can sit with me and my friends." Daphne said with a grin when they needed to part ways, and Hermione nodded eagerly.  
She had a friend! 

The rest of the shopping was boring, except the pet shop where she found a dark coloured owl that was definitely more eagle than owl that seemed to have latched itself onto Hermione. The shopkeeper was amazed, saying that the creature was a holy terror, and gave it to the girl for free. Hermione was ecstatic, and the eagle owl perched on her shoulder. The talons dug in slightly, but didn't draw blood due to the layers of her cardigan.  
"What are you going to name him?" Snape asked her as they walked to the book shop, and Hermione smoothed her fingers over the soft dark feathers of his wing, when thought for a while.  
"I think I'll call him Zeus." She decided, and the man beside her nodded his approval.  
"It's fitting." He states, and Hermione smiles up at him.  
The man makes no comment, but he buys her an ice cream from Fortescue's, and he laughs when she ends up with chocolate sprinkles on the tip of her nose.  
The book store is a dream come true for Hermione, the building covered in books. Snape sees her widened eyes and rolls his eyes almost fondly, and gives her a little push. He tells her to explore and get some books that she likes, and he will find her textbooks for the year.  
Hermione dives into the shelves, finding A Complete History Of Potion Making, Magical Families And Genealogy, A Complete Dictionary Of Hexes Through The Ages, Dark Arts And How To Defeat Them, some magical novels to compare to her muggle ones, and her personal favourite, Plants That Harm And Plants That Heal - A Guide To Dosages.  
She scampered back to Snape, who inspected her choices with a raised eyebrow, and nods as he goes off to pay for them, and comes back with two extra.  
"I thought you might like these, too." He says, a little awkwardly, and she hugs the man. His arms are a extremely light as he hugs her back, for just a moment before pushing her away, but she knows that he didn't completely hate the affection.  
He passes the mystery texts to her, and she gasps when she sees Magical Cultures Of The World and Rare And Unusual Potions. How amazing, she can't wait to read them. 

Getting her wand is a long process, she tries dozens of wands before the old man looms over her with pale eyes that feel like they're x-raying her. It's a similar look to the one that Daphne had given her, and Hermione is confused again.  
The man vanishes into the back for a little while, they can hear him rummaging about and mumbling, but he appears a short while later with a light purple wand box.  
He presses it to her, and she opens it to see a chestnut coloured wand. It's smooth to her touch, and she knows before she even waves it that this is the one.  
Snape and Ollivander lean forward as she waves it, and the whole room erupts into bloom. Vines and flowers creep up the shelves, blooms of pink and blue and red glinting in the light, and Hermione beams.  
"Ah yes, I did rather think this would be yours, young miss." Ollivander beams at her like she had given him a winning lottery ticket, and Hermione can't help with grin back.  
She pays 16 galleons for the wand, and she almost skips beside Snape, wand in the bag and Zeus on her shoulder once more.  
"Are you hungry?" Snape asks, and she tries to politely say no, but her stomach growls loudly.  
The girl blushes red in shame, and Snape leads her wordlessly to the Leaky Cauldron. He hands her a menu, and he pays for her meal despite her protests.  
"You're in my care for the day, and you're significantly easier to handle than any of the other brats." He says, but he is smiling so she takes it as a compliment and digs into her burger.  
They eat in a comfortable silence, then drink their respective drinks (coffee for him with an obscene amount of sugar, earl grey tea for her with one sugar), until Hermione remembers something.  
"A girl in the robes shop mentioned houses in the school. What does that mean?" She asks, and Snape raises his eyebrows at her.  
"The school is divided into four houses when you arrive. You'll be sorted into one of the houses, and they will be your friends and family for the seven years that you attend Hogwarts. The houses are representatives of different personality traits. Gryffindor is for those who are brave and reckless, Hufflepuff for the kind and loyal, Ravenclaw for the clever and curious, and Slytherin for the ambitious and cunning." The man seemed to sneer a little at the idea of Gryffindor, but seemed so proud when he said Slytherin.  
Hermione thought that over.  
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were out, she thought it safe to assume. Hermione was not known for being brave nor kind, but she was clever.  
So Ravenclaw was a possibility. She wouldn't mind that one.  
But Slytherin. Something inside her felt good when she heard of it, like something inside her had been lost for so long and Slytherin was like going home. It didn't make sense, but Hermione realised that she didn't need it to.  
"I want to be in Slytherin." She said, and Snape observed her with dark eyes.  
"Are you sure? They say it's the evil house. All the other students might hate you." He tells her, and she scoffs. How was that any different to muggle schools she was in now?  
Apparently her scoff was answer enough, and Snape ruffles her hair a little proudly. 

He takes her home, with bags filled with books and supplies, and he passes her a ticket to the train.  
"I'll see you in September, Hermione." He tells her, and Hermione grins and hugs the man once more.  
"You bet, Mister Snape." She grins, and she is still amazed when he disappears with a pop. 

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

She stands at the front of the group of children her age, listening to the headmaster talk.  
All they have to do is try on a hat?  
Well, isn't that an anti climax. Hermione was sort of hoping to have to fight a troll like Ronald's brothers had said. She had studied for nothing.  
But then Hannah Abbott placed it on her head, and the hat began to talk, and oh, Hermione was fascinated.  
Was that a spell? A soul that was trapped into a hat? A ghost possessing a hat?  
She had no idea, and her brain buzzed with possibilities, and she almost missed the applause when Hannah was placed in Hufflepuff.  
She watched the others go before her, until it was her turn, and she walked with her head high to the platform. Daphne grabbed her hand on the way past, and the girl gave Hermione a smile that made her feel more confident in herself.  
The hat is placed on her head, and it covers her eyes, and then there is a voice in her ear that sounds kind of like Mister Ollivander. 

Oh, you're something new. Granger, is it? Hm. Not yet, not yet, I don't think. You are brave, but you are selfish. Oh dear, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. I meant it in the most ambitious of ways. You're clever, but there's a blackness in you. And oh, what's this? Oh, you are going to do great things, little one. I think it will have to be... 

"SLYTHERIN!" It shouts aloud while Hermione's brain is spinning with all the nonsense it had whispered directly into her head. What on Earth did it mean?  
The Hall erupts in applause on one side to her right, the green and silver table, and Hermione notes with distaste that the boys she met on the train now looked at her with distrusting eyes.  
Screw them, she fumed. How dare they judge her for achieving what she had dreamed of for months?  
She was greeted into Slytherin, a fifth year moving up for her to sit beside them, and soon Daphne was skipping to the table. Hermione was cheering at the top of her lungs and the girl hugged Hermione as she reached the table. The two girl giggled as the Sorting went on, and they were joined at their end of the table by Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.  
"Guys, this is Hermione. I met her in Madam Malkins." Daphne introduced her to them, and each of them gave sweet little nods of the head to her and Pansy complimented her skin.  
"I so wish I could tan like that." Pansy sighed, and Hermione promised the girl that she would find a spell that could let the girl have her skin tanned if she wanted.  
The feast began after some truly baffling words from Dumbledore, and Hermione gaped. She hadn't seen so much food before in her life!  
"You look surprised." Draco notes, as he plates some carrots for her, and she nods.  
"She grew up with muggles. She's muggleborn." Daphne informs them, and Hermione tenses up all over. She has read in her books that pureblood families like the Malfoys despise muggleborns.  
The blonde squinted at her, then chuckles, and the others follow his lead.  
Hermione feels like she is missing something, but can't find herself to care when Blaise tickles her sides and Pansy debates about their new classes with her.  
The meal is delicious, and Hermione swallows her guilt that she feels more at home here than she ever did with her parents.  
That guilt is soon forgotten when the first years are shown their common room, where the room is filled with green glimmering light from the windows that show the lake. If she focuses, she can see merpeople just like in her books swimming about.  
"Welcome to Slytherin. We're your prefects, Gemma Flint and Adder Rice. You've been accepted into our prestigious house because you have the drive, the heart and the cunning to succeed. You're not evil, like our peers love to say, you are ruthless. And that is not a bad thing, nothing has ever been accomplished by someone sitting on their ass. Blood, while important, is not everything here. While you are here, you are all siblings regardless of status. In-fighting cannot happen, little ones, because the other houses will target us enough. We need to protect each other, like our founder dictated us to, like those who are better always should. You will grow up to be politicians, aurors, potions masters. You will grow up to be Lords and Ladies and firm friends with all who stand with you now. If you have troubles, turn to another Slytherin, and try to always walk in groups. The other students say we are evil, and yes we have had our share of darkness from our house, but the others have had dark wizards from their houses too. They just like to forget that. Come to us if you have any problems, and remember that you made it. This is your home now, and you will always be safe here. The dorm rooms are shared between three of each student, and you get to choose your roommates. Have fun, and enjoy your time." Gemma spoke clearly, with a voice like a bell, and Adder nodded and smiled from beside her.  
Home. Family. Acceptance. Darkness. Ambition. Success. Ruthless.  
Hermione was loving the sound of this place more and more every second.  
"Hermione, would you like to room with Pansy and I?" Daphne asks, and Hermione beams.  
"It would be a pleasure, Daph." She says, and the girls smile at her.  
They reach their room, and gape at the open expanse of beauty.  
The walls are white, and the bed frames are a dark mahogany colour that emphasises the beauty of the green and grey cotton sheets, with the Slytherin Crest upon them.  
Zeus awaits, having escaped his cage, and flies to land on her forearm and twitter into her ear.  
She chuckles and introduces her affectionate eagle to her friends, who fawn over him but don't get too close. They remember him from Diagon Alley.  
They choose their beds, and sleepily put their clothes and books away in closets and on desks, before they wish each other goodnight and crawl into soft, perfectly warm sheets. 

Hermione dreams of the woman covered in stars, who for the first time speaks to her.  
"You're doing so well, sweet one."


	2. Years 1-4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years 1-4, this story will be from fifth year onwards. The bella/hermione stuff only starts when she is 17 (adult age for the wizarding world), bc ick.   
> Literally wrote this in an hour, is almost definitely shit and has alot of errors, will edit at another time bc im sleepy and lazy.   
> Enjoy!

The next four years pass quickly for Hermione, and her Slytherin friends. Sadly, those prefects on her first day were right, in that other students did their best to harm the young snakes.   
They soon got the receiving end of Hermione's hexes, and people knew that you were probably safe if you walked behind her in the corridors.  
Despite that, Hermione only had a few close friends, preferring to stay true to her introverted nature, and her friends loved that about her, rather than discouraged it like her parents had. 

Her parents had grown distant, and Hermione ached and rejoiced in equal measure. She ached because they were the ones who raised her, those who tucked her in at night when she was little, and had cared for her when she was sick.  
Rejoiced because as the years passed it became more and more apparent that she just wasn't like them. She had grown tall when they were short, her skin was tan while theirs was pale, her eyes were hazel rather than blue or brown and the shape of her face didn't match them at all.   
It all came to a head in the summer after 2nd year, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened but her house had laughed at her tentative inquiries about whether she was safe. Of course, she was, they told her with smiles that held amusement and fondness, and she decided on the train back to the muggle world that she finally wanted to know who the fuck she was. What all those purebloods saw when they looked at her with knowing and gentle eyes.  
It was Blaise who answered, his soft voice washing over her like a warm shower, as he explained that pureblood wizards and witches can see and sense other purebloods based on their magic. If they squint, and focus, they can see the colour of it.  
Hermione has an aura where a muggleborn wouldn't, and hers is a bright sapphire blue.   
Hermione gaped, and they watched her warily.  
Her jaw set, and she squinted and focused on Draco. Her head ached, like she was trying to force her awareness outwards, but after a few tries, the blonde boy lit up green and gold. The girl gasps and clutches her head, which was pounding from the effort, but she finally believes them.  
"They lied to me." She sniffles, crying from a little pain and a bit of heart break, but mostly from exhaustion, and Pansy guides her to lay her head in her lap.  
"You'll be okay, Hermione. Talk to them at home. And if you need to, you can stay with us." Draco offers, and Hermione spares her friends an exhausted smile.   
"I love you guys." She slurs out sleepily, and they coo at her as she falls asleep, but whisper the words back to her like she was a goddess that they were praying to. 

She does talk to her parents, a few days after coming home, the tension between them all becoming suffocating for the girl.  
To their credit, they don't lie. They tell her that she was adopted, that she had been found on their doorstep one morning, with a note asking to keep her safe, and that her name was Hermione.  
"Do you still have the note?" Hermione asked, and they handed it over along with her birth certificates and adoption records.   
That conversation felt like a goodbye, and Hermione swallows against the lump in her throat as she informs them that she wants to stay at a friend's for the summer the next day.   
Her parents don't even look up as they agree. Apparently the conversation the night before had been the final straw for them.   
So Hermione packs her things, and takes down all the pictures of herself, and she tells herself she is being kind when she whispers 'obliviate' under her breath, hand stretched outwards towards her sleeping parents that evening. Her fingertips tingled and stung, but she knew her attempt at wandless magic had succeeded.  
She steps into the fire, her hand full of glittering black powder and shouts "MALFOY MANOR".   
The world spins, and the last sight of what was once her home vanishes like it never existed.   
Hermione only sheds one tear, and it is wiped away quickly as she tumbles out of green flame onto the soft grey carpeting of the Malfoy's carpet.  
"Hello, and who might you be?"   
To his credit, Lucius Malfoy didn't look too offended to have a random thirteen year old girl land in his study while he was doing paperwork, instead just looking concerned for the girl, surrounded by all her luggage.  
"I-ah. Draco said I could come here, if I needed to." She said, nervous and shy, and the man spared a second to give her a comforting smile that put her at ease.  
"Don't worry, Draco and his mother are in the parlour. I can take you there, and we shall discuss why you've come. I'll see to it that a house elf takes your things to a guest room." He says, offering his hand to her in acquaintance, and Hermione can't help but smile and take it, finding that she quite likes the eldest Malfoy.  
He leads her through the maze of halls, pointing out paintings and sculptures that he thought she might like, and he chuckled indulgently at her when she almost jumped up and down in excitement when she saw the library.   
Hermione caught him staring at her, likely seeing the sapphire blue that seeped from her skin, like her friends said, and he said he would bring her back later on.  
Hermione followed with grace, finally seeing parlour and sees the beautiful Narcissa Malfoy, and her friend beside her.  
"Hermione!" Draco ran to hug her, and the hazel eyed girl laughed and embraced the boy back.  
"I asked them." She told him, and he drew back with serious grey eyes.   
"And now you're here. Did they kick you out?" He frets, and Hermione shakes her head, biting her lip and glancing away awkwardly.  
Maybe coming here was a bad idea.  
Narcissa Malfoy jumped in to rescue the girl from further anxiety, and called for a house elf to bring some afternoon tea for the four of them, and greeted the girl warmly.  
"We shall discuss this over tea. And trust us, dear girl, you are safe to admit anything that you please here." The woman smiles, and Hermione gives a short bow to the woman like how Pansy had taught her to.   
The woman smiles and shakes her head, a strand of gorgeous blonde hair falling from it's elaborate style.  
"No need for that, sapphire." The woman teases, and Draco blushes at his mother's use of the term. Hermione assumes that such affectionate terms for the colour of ones magic is a pureblood thing, and she smiles, pleased.   
So, they sit at the table, with the most delicious cakes and scones, earl grey tea in china cups, and Hermione finally begins to talk. She tells them everything, and she watches their expressions throughout her tale. Lucius gasps in delight when she tells of her wandless magic, and he asks her for a sample of her blood.   
"I'll have it examined privately, and we can find out what family you are from. And I'll get a letter written, with your parent's signature, that states that parental rights for you are being signed over to us, if you want?" He asks, making sure she knows that she has a choice in this.   
Hermione absolutely beams, and she stammered out her thanks. The eldest Malfoy tips her chin up with gentle fingers, and tells her she has nothing to thank him for.   
"You're ours now." Narcissa says, the possessive term sounding gentle and like home for Hermione.   
Hermione takes the blade offered to her a few days later, and barely flinched when she sliced her own arm, red rivlets pouring down tan skin, into the vial underneath, and Hermione is mesmerised by it.   
Narcissa and Lucius watch from the door way, watch as blue magic flares as blood drips from their wards fingers, and they share a smile.  
This girl is one of them, always has been and always will be.   
And they adore her already. 

The results come back a week later, in the hands of a trusted friend that Hermione recognises as her own head of house. Snape smiles at her with softness in his glinting black eyes, and allows her to hug him briefly. He hands her an envelope, and she opens it, curiosity burning like fire within her.  
Who is she? What is her name? Who were her parents? 

Her fingers shook when she took out the parchment, and she saw her name written in swirling red ink. 

Hermione Antoinette Avery. 

Something clicks inside her, and she smiles, wide and toothy.   
"That's my name." She whispers, and she turns to share her smile with the ones who her heart and magic scream for her to claim as her family.   
"It is." A gentle hand lands on her shoulder, and Hermione looks up to see Lucius and Narcissa behind her, watching her with something like fondness and pride and sorrow.  
"Tell me, about my parents?" She asked, and the adults nodded softly at her. She follows them into the library, where they pull out photo albums and genealogy books, and point out her grandmothers and grandfathers.   
"Your father is alive. His name is Adrius Avery, but he is in Azkaban. He was a death eater, and was arrested at the end of the last war." They tell her this carefully, like they are expecting her to blow the room up when she learns this.   
She feels something hot and spiteful bubble up, but she swallows it down. She will free her father someday, and the sister of Narcissa's that the woman gets so sad when she thinks of. The blonde Malfoy heiress has a picture of her on the mantlepiece, a pale face and glittering blue eyes high lighted by gorgeous ringlets of dark hair.   
Hermione admits that she spends a weird amount of time staring at that photo, while she drinks tea and reads. And the one time Narcissa told her about her sister, Hermione swore to herself that she would do anything it took to take that misty look away from her mother-figures eye.   
"And my mother?" Is all she asks, and they tell her about Antoinette Avery (nee. Parkinson), who died a few months after her husband was incarcerated, and was only spared the same fate because of Hermione, and the other death eaters swore her innocence to keep the woman and her child safe.   
Snape tells her that an auror must have taken baby Hermione from her dead mother's arms and given her to a muggle family, instead of to her aunt and uncle to live with Pansy.   
Instead they stole her and placed her with people who may have hurt her, or abandoned her, or done worse things to her.   
Lucius' blood boiled as he thought of the things that his ward may have had to endure, and he swore to himself vehemently that he would provide the best and most pleasing life for the girl that he could. The girl that made his wife and son smile so much, the girl who Draco called sister and who had the pureblood spark within her that life had clearly tried to stamp out. 

Hermione made her first kill in Malfoy Manor, just after her fourteenth birthday, when a muggle burglar broke into the mansion and pointed a gun at Draco and Narcissa. The girl did not hesitate, and she did not need the wand in her sleeve to use the hex that Snape had taught her.   
His slashing hex worked quite well, though the carpets had needed to be replaced.   
Hermione had felt all fuzzy afterwards, like her very bones were vibrating, but Lucius congratulated her, and she saw sheer pride in the eyes of her family when the man boasted about it at the next dinner. 

Then her fifth year came, and Dolores Umbridge along with it, and an idea sparked in Hermione's brain.   
It echoed and bounced across her synapses, until it was all she thought of.   
She likes to kill, and watch people suffer and bleed. It was just who she was, and she was loved for it by those who mattered.  
Why not gain favours and money while she does it?  
Why was she playing the cards when she could be the dealer?   
She was a genius, she was powerful and she was a survivor. She had to be to have survived at Hogwarts like she had.   
The Dark Lord was back, they all knew. Lucius had been summoned that night of the Triwizard Tournament, had seen him with his own eyes.   
The different sides were gathering power, and Hermione did not like the idea of being an idle pawn. Or a chess piece. She wanted to play the game, rather than be part of it.   
And so, she decided to use her skills.   
Everyone has a secret, something to hide, and Hermione is going to exploit them all.   
Not for Voldemort, though she does have a fondness for him (even if his attitude to muggles is distasteful), but for herself and for her family. 

For her mother, and the life she never got. For the life that her father, and Bellatrix, and all the others had missed out on while in that soulless jail. 

Hermione glances over at the picture of Bellatrix, who she now realises is one of the women from her dream, and she gets up to run her fingers over the hair of the woman in the photo.   
"I'll do this for you, Bella." She promises softly, and somehow she thinks that Bella knows.  
She hopes that she does.


	3. Sing A Song Of Hatred So Sour And Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Luna.  
> Grey!Luna. Umbridge bashing bc she sucks.
> 
> Not spell checked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my friend who helped me write this!  
> Thank you for dealing with my ranting about the fic. I love you lotssssss x

Hermione walks through the corridors like she owns the place, and with her newly renewed status as an Avery, and being a ward of the Malfoy family, she practically does.   
She hears the soft voice that signals she is close to the girl she looks for, and pauses to listen to a soft eerie voice echo across the walls. 

'Careful, little lassie,  
Only time can tell,  
Dance for a darling man,  
He'll drag you straight to hell.   
And I'm singing oh aye, don't you lie,  
They dropped her in the well. 

Water in her lungs,  
Only time can tell.  
She screams loud and clear,  
They laughed as she fell  
And as the water rises  
She'll drag them down to Hell. 

And I'm singing oh aye, sinister lie  
Guess who's laughing now?  
She giggles like a banshee,  
And they follow her to Hell. 

The children of the village,   
At the well they play,  
And if any fall in,  
They're there to stay.   
And they sing  
Oh aye, don't you cry  
Only time will tell.  
She takes them by the hand  
And guides them down to Hell.' 

Hermione finds herself humming along to the melody, this song being one of Luna's favourites.   
Hermione judges her sweet friend's moods based on the songs she sings to Helena Ravenclaw, who had deemed the pair of them okay to talk with.   
If she sings this song, that she dubs in her head as the Morbid Shanty, Luna is happy and she can talk to her.  
If she is singing The Endless Night, then Hermione needs to give her friend comfort and go visit the thestrals with her.  
If she is singing Wedding's Slaughter, Hermione turns in the other direction and gets the Hell out of dodge.   
Luna Lovegood, a witch from a light magic family but plays around at the darker edges of grey magic herself, is Hermione's best friend.   
She had met the girl in her third year, with all the Sirius Black mess ongoing, finding the girl glaring at the stormy sky and the demonic creatures that floated above them, circling the school like lions would prey. Hermione had been drawn in by hair so white it seemed to glow against the dull stone of the castle and the grey skies, and Luna had called out to her. 

*"Come and watch the storm with me. It's oddly calming. The Lake gets so angry and crashes waves to shore." She had said, and Hermione joined it her.  
They stood side by side on top of the astronomy tower, watching the lightning crackle and strike at the wards that surrounded the school, and watched the dementors sway in the miserable weather, almost as if they were dancing.  
"If we were to push someone off here, do you think their heart would stop before they met the ground?" Luna asked, quite suddenly, and Hermione quirked a smile.  
She had a feeling that maybe this strange girl in blue and bronze was like her, and she does so love to be right.  
"It would take about 16 storeys for that. This tower is the tallest and has about 30. So yes, I'd assume so. Why? Planning on shoving someone off the astronomy tower?" Hermione had grinned, and it slipped off her face when Luna bit her lip and looked away, much less dreamy and soft, looking sad and almost scared.  
"Maybe. Multiple someone's, if they don't stop mentioning my mother." Luna said softly, and Hermione felt something sharp and hot strike her heart. Something fierce and protective and venomous, and she looked at crystal blue eyes and decided then and there that she wanted to be Luna's friend.   
"I'll be your alibi, for if you do push them." She promised, and Luna gave a sharp smile that was more a baring of the teeth.   
"I think we're going to be good friends, Hermione Granger." She says, and Hermione gives a feral smile of her own.  
"Hermione Avery actually." She corrects, and blue eyes got a glint of interest in them.  
"You'll have to tell me that story." She tells the brunette.  
They exchange many stories, another night, after being called to Professor McGonagall's office asking if they saw what happened and why several Gryffindors had their heads stuck into toilets with a very strong sticking charm. Both girls shook their heads, and told the stern woman that they hadn't seen anything, and had been on their way to meet Draco and Daphne in the library to study.  
Of course, Draco and Daphne backed up their claim, and McGonagall dismissed them and told them to come back if they heard anything.   
The girls headed back to the astronomy tower, and they sat back to back, their heads leaning on each other, and words spilled from their mouths like ink across a page. Black and messy and impossible to remove, but they felt safe with one another.  
On that day, Luna Lovegood made a friend, and a powerful friend indeed. And now anyone who bullies her ends up mysteriously injured in various ways.*

"You going to stand there all day, Mi?" Luna asks, and Hermione chuckles. She should have known that Luna could sense her. She had half a mind to ask if Luna had an enhancement charm on her, and wondered if she could use one herself.  
"Hey there, Lu. I have your cut." Hermione grins and holds out a bag, and the blonde girl makes grabby hands at it from where she is laid on the floor, with Helena hovering over her cross legged and seeming to be meditating.  
Can ghosts find inner peace? But then again, arguably, it's not proven that alive people can either but it doesn't stop them from trying.   
"Hey Helena." Hermione hums, laying on the cold stone floor next to Luna and passing across the heavy bag of galleons.  
"I take it that my information worked?" Luna hummed, and Hermione giggled like a child that was unfitting in a school that was getting a little dimmer and dimmer with every stupid Educational Decree that was passed by Unbridge.  
"Nadia Shafiq sung like a bird. So did her parents. Apparently her sleeping with a lower born, a muggleborn at that, was enough of a scandal that they could have lost their seats in the Egyptian Wizarding Government, and they paid handsomely to make sure we didn't leak the gossip to that journalist bitch." Hermione laughed, and Luna rolled her eyes at Hermione's continued venomous attitude towards Rita. Still, she took the bag of coins and weighed it out, before she took a few from her bag and tossed them back to Hermione.  
"Put those in the stash." Luna told her, and Hermione nodded while calculating how much she needed to put in their stash too.  
"Have you paid Melody?" Luna asks suddenly, interrupting Hermione's internal monologue on whether to put 10% or 20% in the stash this time.   
Melody Flint was a first year, very thin and small in all the ways her older brother was big and brawny, but she was sneaky and loved gossip. Hermione, the Slytherin prefect with Draco, had taken a liking to the sly girl who was the absolute definition of a snake. The girl was loyal, but to her house and to her bloodline only. It was a trait to be admired in one so young when others her age were impressionable and confused.   
"Yes, she got 30 galleons out of the Shafiq job for forging journalist bitch's note, and she got 20 galleons from the spider job we did for Snape." Hermione said patiently. Luna was grey when Hermione was darker, Luna liked to say she was charcoal grey, while Hermione was coal dust grey. Still grey, but much, much darker.  
The blonde liked to make sure that everyone was paid fairly, and Hermione liked that about her. Luna softened all her sharp edges, and was the perfect second in command to the little operation they were running.   
They shuddered at the memory of the spider job, and both swore to never offer that again. Snape had needed some of the web from the giant spiders in the forest for a potion, and had paid well for it, but money can only take you so far when you have to fight hundreds of spiders the size of hippogriffs for it.   
Hermione had almost exhausted herself using every spell she knew that would kill the damn things.   
Of course there were massive people eating spiders in the forest next to school, why the fuck was Hermione surprised after the year they found out there was a big ass snake in the piping that went for a wander and decided to petrify people?  
They had gotten enough webbing and Snape had healed their cuts with a gentleness, and he had smiled indulgently at Luna when she told him about all the nargles in the forest and how she hopes to catch one someday. Hermione then realised that the man teaches Luna potions and must be used to her by now, but actually seems genuinely fond of the girl.  
They swore a pact to never do anything involving spiders any bigger than common house spiders again.   
The girls stayed laid side by side, talking idly until Draco comes up wearing his Inquisitorial Squad badge and hisses at them to get to the common room before Filch or Umbridge comes, and the girl dart in different directions, waving goodbye to Helena. 

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

The next Educational Decree states that boys and girls should not be within 8 inches of each other, which leads to many dick jokes, as you can imagine.   
This didn't seem to apply to the Inquisitorial Squad, thankfully, as Hermione would definitely have kicked up a storm about not being able to hug Draco or Blaise, and for the LGBTQ+ students of the castle, the decree was a matter of mirth and glee.   
It also put a whole load of students in detention, and Hermione's little group of snakes (plus their honorable eagle) were earning a small fortune from students wanting to buy essence of murtlap for soaking their carved hands in to ease the pain, or pay them to have Melody scamper about and do their errands for them so they would not be caught doing anything they shouldn't.  
Hermione doesn't charge for the second and first years, she looks at their teary eyes and their bloodied fingers and she feels fury rise at the sight, at the idea that this bitch had come and invaded their castle and was torturing her peers.   
Hermione did not like Umbridge one bit, but she smiled and pretended to preen when the awful woman complimented her because she was a better ally. To have the woman as an enemy was dangerous.  
Hermione not charging the little ones, which all the older students were trying to comfort and protect, had gained her popularity amongst the older students.   
Hermione was bad, yes, she had no illusions of being sweet or good, but she was no monster, and torturing children is not the way to succeed in anything.   
But no, she would not oppose Umbridge. 

Until the day came when Luna turned up at the Slytherin common room, hands bloody, and tears trailing down pale cheeks.   
Hermione had shattered every lamp in the place with her fury, submerging them all in the dark, and Blaise had fixed everything before fetching the spare essence of murtlap to ease Luna's hand into.  
"What did she punish you for, Luna?" Hermione asked, spitting out the words like every syllable offended her.   
"I was singing, she didn't like the lyrics." The blonde whispered, and Hermione wanted to slice and slash her way through the woman until she was unrecognisable, until all that was left was blood stained sinew and bone. Until the woman was erased.   
She breathed slow, in through her nose, out through her mouth.   
"Get some rest, Lu." She says gently, and Luna gives her big teary puppy eyes.  
"Sing to me?"   
Well, how the fuck is Hermione supposed to say no?  
"Which song?" She asks, because Luna has loads of songs that she sings, but she has a feeling upon which one she needs right now.  
"Endless Night."   
Yeah, she thought so. Hermione clears her throat, then begins.

'Porcelain girls and dark dresses,  
Gold and ribbons in ebony tresses,  
Take a twirl, my love-  
The belle of the ball,  
The shape of your silhouette  
Is a sirens call. 

Come, dear one, take a chance  
Spin, laugh, drink and dance  
After all, what else have you to lose?  
A line of suitors for you to choose.  
The night is endless, for me and you,  
Red, yellow, green or blue? 

Red is bloody, wars that scream true,  
Sorrowful and sad, but brings forth the new,  
With terror comes beauty, and with that comes gold,  
But of a soldier's guilt, you'll forever be cold. 

Yellow is the sun, it will light up your life,  
Joy and flame, a lover's sharp knife,  
But be careful, sweet girl, watch your mind,  
The light upon you, may make you blind. 

Come, dear one, take a chance,  
Spin, laugh, drink and dance,  
After all, what else have you to lose?   
A line of suitors for you to choose.  
The night is endless, for me and you,  
Red, yellow, green or blue? 

Green is meadows, soft and alive,  
Shall give you all that you'll ever need to survive,  
However, you won't outlive the flowers that bloom,  
And eventually that meadow will be your tomb. 

Blue is ice and seas so ruthless,  
From the sea is freedom and no venture fruitless,  
But watch, dear one, as the waves do hit,  
And at the bottom of the sea, your skeleton will sit. 

Have you made your choice, sweet gentle girl?  
Shall I give you a spin, or maybe a twirl?  
Which suitor is it for thee?  
In which future in yourself you see?  
This night is endless, for me and you,  
So I ask now for the last time  
Red, yellow, green or blue?' 

Luna was asleep before the end of the song, but Hermione kept singing as she saw the little first year Slytherins start to get sleepy too. Melody had climbed into Blaise's lap and was asleep, drooling all over his shirt, and the boy looked somewhere between revolted and fond.   
"What are you going to do, Sapphire?" Draco asked softly from her left, and Hermione gave a smile that looked as sharp as a razor.  
"I'm going to make the bitch wish she was dead. No one touches Lu." She hisses, and her friends nod.  
The head girl, Meredith Pucey, gives her a nod.  
"I'll confirm your alibi. I like Luna. She helped me with herbology once." She tells the younger girl, and Hermione beams.   
She's going to destroy Umbridge, for Luna, for Melody, and for the little ones she should have been saving all along.


	4. Torment All But Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione meets Voldemort, and it goes about as well as you'd expect.  
> Cw: torture.
> 
> Hermione is Dark in this, especially, I warned you.

Hermione adjusts the sack of coins in her pocket, and she wills herself into the act of her life.  
She knocks on Umbridge's door and sniffles, letting entirely false tears roll down her cheeks and make her light make up run. Her hair was a mess and choppy on one side, and her skin is smudged with paint and soot. Her uniform is torn and she watches that ever present smile on the woman's face fade as she sees one of her favourite students in this state.  
"Oh, miss Avery! What ever happened?" The woman frets, pulling the girl gently into her office and settling her carefully onto a pink cushioned chair. The cats around the office on plates and in portraits all meowed at her, and Hermione fought a disgusted sneer at the sheer volume of pink in the small office.   
This display of care and gentleness was at odds to the sociopath that Hermione knew the woman was - and absolutely no part of her regretted what she was planning.   
The woman had been borderline distasteful of Hermione until she learned she was an Avery, and Hermione almost vomited when the woman spoke to her as if she was her mother.   
Apparently the insane pink lady had dated her father at Hogwarts, and the idea makes Hermione feel nauseous.   
And angry, because this woman is not her mother, the only woman who comes close is Narcissa, and maybe Letta Greengrass at a push.   
Hermione pushed her thoughts in order and makes two big tears roll down her cheeks again, and the woman simpers at her and hands her tissues, and then hands her a cup of tea.   
"The Weasley twins. They pulled a prank on me, and now all my uniforms and clothes are ruined!" Hermione lies through her teeth, faking little gasping sobs, and the woman turns a very unattractive shade of fire truck red in anger.  
Hermione hides a wince, while she is no friend of the twins, and their agreement to prank her and take the punishment had cost her quite heavily, she does not envy them because it rather looks like the woman wants to make them carve themselves to the bone.  
"Those two bullying, disobedient, lying, ruthless little..." the adjectives go on, and Hermione tunes her out, waiting for the woman to pause so she can ask what she needs to.  
"I know it is unorthodox Professor, but please. Would you allow me to go go Hogsmeade today? I need new clothes." Hermione adds a teary pleading look, but Umbridge seems to pause and frown a little, but nods.  
"Of course, dear. I'll see to it that those two are sufficiently punished. You are excused from classes for the day, and from Inquisitorial Squad duties. You're exceptionally ahead of the rest in both anyway. But do ensure your homework is completed." Umbridge says finally, and Hermione almost gasps in relief before catching herself at the last moment.  
She fakes exuberant thankfulness that sounds so much like groveling that she wants to smack her head into a wall repeatedly. 

But, she has what she wants, and she walks slowly and sniffles all the way back to the common room, and the twins give her a wink when they pass her.   
She has a moment of weakness and compassion, and she shoves a vial of murtlap essence into Fred's pocket, along with a few more galleons. She does not envy their fate.  
She enters her common room, and wipes her tears fiercely, donning her Draco's much too big quidditch sweater and some leggings that she stained with paint to make sure she looks the part when she meets Umbridge to let her off the school grounds and into a carriage to Hogsmeade. 

The journey is quiet and without a hitch, and Hermione stares out of the window and daydreams, humming a tune under her breath as the thestral leads her to the town, where Narcissa awaits her.  
Hermione is excited, she hasn't seen the woman she calls mother in her head in a few months, and she aches to dive into her arms and smell that scent of darjeeling tea and jasmine that reminds her so much of home. Hermione is almost bouncing with anticipation by the time she arrives, and she flings herself in a very un-ladylike manner to dart across frosty paths to where she knew Narcissa was waiting.  
She sees the blonde woman, very picture of beauty and etiquette, and Hermione dives into her open arms, almost crying as her eyes sting as she inhales the scent of home.   
"Hello, little sapphire. You've been busy, according to your Gringotts manager." Narcissa whispers into the sleek brunette locks of Hermione's hair, and the girl nods with a grin.  
"We're proud of you." Narcissa tells her, then the world spins, and they vanish with a pop. 

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

Ten minutes later, Hermione is dressed in a plain yet elegant grey dress, her hair magicked into a beautiful bun atop her head, and her throat bearing a snake necklace that compliments her skin tone and eyes.   
"Are you ready for this?" Narcissa frets, and Hermione rolls her eyes fondly.  
"I will be okay, Cissa." She promises, and the woman nods, allowing the girl to twirl out of her grasp and follow the ugly man she knows is Peter Pettigrew to the chambers where The Dark Lord is waiting for her.   
She contemplates that maybe she should have brought a gift, but honestly, the man lived with the Malfoys. All he could desire was likely already bought for him, and all that couldn't be would soon be underway.   
She had lived in this manor all summer, as had he, but had never run into him once. The fight with Potter after being restored into a body had tired him, and he had needed time to recover.  
The door approaches, a massive thing of dark stained oak and elegant carvings, and it creaks open as they approach.  
Wormtail does not follow her in, and she resolutely does not flinch when the door slams shut, sealing her off from Narcissa and Lucius.  
He sits, somehow exactly what she expected and very different, in a comfortable green leather chair, a mug of tea in his hands.  
"Hello, My Lord." She says, dipping into a curtsey, but not lowering her gaze.   
"Miss Avery. Come sit." His tone has no inflections that gave her a hint about where she stood, but his snake like nose twitches as he gives her a pleasant enough smile.   
She takes the seat offered, and a trembling house elf gives her a cup of tea. She sips it, before she dismisses the poor creature with a glare. She cannot afford to be kind or compassionate here, but she looks into dark eyes and sees something warped and alot like herself.  
She thinks he sees the same in her, and they both sit in silence while they drink their tea, appreciating the air of being with someone who is even marginally like them where everyone else isn't.  
"Lucius tells me that you would like me to teach you something. A spell." Again, no inflections in his voice, but she can almost taste his curiosity.   
She doesn't blame him, if she was the darkest wizard of all time and a sixteen year old girl requested to meet with him, she would be curious too.  
Or maybe she would just kill them.   
She hopes he doesn't. She has so many people to scam out of their money. And many more to make bleed.  
She feels something push against her mind, and knows he sees that last thought, and he gives a distant chuckle.  
"A curse. Against someone who harmed what is mine." She says, and he raises a nonexistent eyebrow.   
"What is yours?" He asks, and Hermione allowed herself to flush a little. He thinks she means who she is dating.  
"Nothing like that, my lord. A friend. Someone I am loyal to, and who is loyal to me." She explains, then she let's her admittedly weak occlumency shields down.   
It isn't her strong suit.  
"Take a look." She offers, and he regards her for a moment before he pushes his mind against hers, and Hermione sees her life flash before her eyes. Just brief moments, alot of them blood soaked, that intruder who she killed in the manor, then finally to Luna who was grey in all the ways she was dark, and helped her ruin lives.   
She let him watch as the girl shed reluctant tears as she clutched her hand, which had 'I shall not sing such morbid songs' carved into it, blood pouring from the wound. 

He pulls away, and Hermione fumes with a second bout of rage. She aches to smash Umbridge's face into stone, to cut and slash and tear at her skin until the woman begs.   
She breathes slow, and the bloodlust fades.   
"I will teach you." He says, softly, like he was contemplating something, and does not look at her.  
Sadistic glee fills her, but then he speaks again.  
It fades a little when he says "but..."  
She watches, tentatively, waiting as he seems to almost tease her with his pause.  
"Bring him in!" He calls, and moments later a man in tossed in. He groans, shaking and sobbing and rather pathetic.  
"Kill him." Voldemort orders, and that thing inside Hermione screams for joy, and charges to the front of her brain and it demands freedom.  
"Can I take my time?" Is all she asks, dark eyes glinting in the dim room.  
Apparently that was the correct answer, because he smiles charismatically.  
"By all means, sweet girl, take all the time you need." He tells her, and Hermione feels glee and hate bubble in her blood as she withdraws her wand from her sleeve. 

She does, in fact, take her time. And screams bounce off the walls, blood splatters across the hardwood flooring, some even managing to get on the tapestry on the far wall.  
The man begs and pleads, and screams until his voice breaks and his throat fills with blood.  
Several times, Hermione heals his worst injuries and starts again, a psychological torture as much as a physical one.   
About half way through her fun, the Dark Lord approaches behind her as opposed to watching with a glinting smile on his lips.  
"Why do you not use the torture curse?" He asked, and Hermione scowls.  
"I can explain away the other hexes, but I cannot explain the cruciatus curse. My wand is Ollivander-made, so it warns the ministry when I use an Unforgivable." She tells him, and he can hear the displeasure in her voice.  
He calls for Wormtail, and the man shuffles in, and squeaks when he sees the mess in the room.  
"Give the girl your wand." He orders, and the rat-like man obeys, handing it over with a glistening silver hand.   
New wand in hand, that felt odd but would allow her to do what she wanted, she raises it.  
"Allow that hate that you try so hard to contain flow free, dear one. Let it go, let it fill you until it burns. Let it run through you like blood." The soft voice of the man behind her says, and she closes her eyes.  
She hates ignorance, Potter, Umbridge and the people who locked her father and Bellatrix away.   
She remembers Cissy's glistening eyes when she talks of her sister, of the aunt that Draco never got, of Luna's teary face. Of Potter being rewarded for what he should have been punished. Of Umbridge and her pink exterior and rotten insides.  
It burns, just like he said, it burn and crackled like lightning across her nerves. It hurt and felt good in a way she had never experienced, and she almost wants to scream out with it.  
"Good. Now push it all the the front of your mind, and then do the spell." She does, and hot orange light envelops the man.  
The screams unlike never before, and Hermione laughs with joy when the burning turns to heat, and it covers her like a hot wave.   
With the Dark Lord's tutelage, she figures out how to increase and decrease the pain she inflicts with the spell, and by the time she finally decides she is bored, the man is a catatonic wreck who is beyond out of his mind with madness from her torment.  
Hermione has never felt quite so powerful, and so exhausted.  
But he ordered her to do it, so with the last of her energy, she yells 'Avada Kedavra!"  
Green light shoots from Wormtail's wand, and she promptly faints. 

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

Hermione wakes up in her own bed, with a note beside her saying that Umbridge was told she took ill in Hogsmeade and was taken home by a concerned patron of the Hogs Head pub, and a book on the worst curses that had a seperate note on it. 

'Hermione,  
Do enjoy this book as I enjoyed our lesson earlier. I look forward to our next one.  
Rest well.  
V.' 

Oh fuck. What has she started?  
She tries not to grin as excitement builds in her messed up head again.   
Umbridge is going to rue the day she harmed Luna, or touched anything that is hers. 

And Luna most certainly was that. 

That night, Azkaban had a breakout, and prophecies both known and not began to come into play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my darling, Frankie, for dealing with my shit while I wrote this.   
> I love you!  
> Thanks for being my editor and letting me bounce ideas off you.


	5. When There Is Nothing Else, They Will Take Your Blood As Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets questioned by the Ministry.  
> Enter Bellatrix (sort of).

Hermione wakes in her own bed, not her dorm at Hogwarts, to see Narcissa's frantic face beside Snape's above her.  
"What's going on?" She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes, and the adults met gazes.   
"Bellatrix was broken out of Azkaban last night." Narcissa told her slowly, and Hermione frowns, why doesn't the woman look more happy about that? Hermione herself was ecstatic, Bellatrix was home, and Narcissa may not look so sad every time she looks in a mirror or tells a story of her childhood.  
"So why do you both look like you're about to tell me someone died? No, did Lucius die? Did Draco?" Hermione's pitch rose in her panic, and Snape soothed her quickly.  
"The ministry will suspect us, and they will interrogate you as their ward and also since you were here last night. We need to alter your memories, sapphire." The man told her, adopting Narcissa's nickname for her and making her frown.  
"Okay?" She told them, wondering why they were making such a big deal of it.   
"...you aren't upset? Worried?" Narcissa asked, and Hermione shook her head slowly.  
"I trust you both, and I want to keep Bella safe." She says softly, and Narcissa frowns at her, before the woman's cheeks tint red and her eyes widen in surprise.  
Then she giggles, and Hermione understands what's going on less than she understands Divination, but she doesn't ask because Snape points his wand to her temple.  
"Close your eyes." He tells her softly, and she nods, doing so, and something once cold hits her temple, and she passes out.  
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇  
"Miss Granger-"  
"Avery, actually." Umbridge intervened, scowling, and Hermione was for once glad for the woman. The pink demon had heard that her favourite pet Slytherin was being questioned about the Azkaban outbreak and was enraged. She was even more so when Kingsley Shacklebolt said that even her vouching for Hermione was proof enough that she knew nothing.  
"-do you know anything about the azkaban breakout?" He continued without addressing Umbridge, and the woman fumed silently.  
"Only what I've read from the papers, sir." Hermione said instantly, having voluntarily taken the veritiserum they wanted her to drink.  
"Have you had contact with a Mrs Bellatrix Lestrange, or any of the others who escaped azkaban yesterday?" He asked next, and she shook her head, not deeming him with a verbal reply.  
"Did your guardians, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, have anything to do with the break out? Or their son, Draco Malfoy?" He asked, and Hermione was enraged.  
"How dare you. How dare you accuse the people who have done so much work for wizarding society, for the ministry itself. How dare you bring up the crimes that were done against them now. They were under the imperious curse when they followed Voldemort in the Great War, and did so under duress and out of their minds with the spell. You have no right to accuse my parents or my brother of this. Professor Umbridge, I want to go back to school please. This is making my upset." Hermione snapped, turning then to the pink woman who nodded sympathetically.   
She held out a hand and Hermione wanted to vomit as she took it, the hand of the woman who tortured Luna.   
But she did, and did not see her lunch reappear, and was flooed back to school, where she curled up on the sofa in the Common Room with Draco and Astoria, letting them fuss over her and curse Shacklebolt for his attitude towards her and her family while Hermione lay silent. Drained. Like there was something missing inside her but she didn't know what it was.  
Snape held her behind after potions, and that cold feeling overcame her again, and it all came back.  
She sways and topples into his arms, but doesn't faint again. It all floods back in bits and pieces, and she sighs in relief when she feels that nothing is missing.  
"Bella." She says softly, and Snape chuckles, something in his tone that Hermione couldn't be bothered to unpack all that with the icey chills wracking her body.  
"You'll see her soon, sapphire." He tells her, and Hermione nods, going from ice cold to warm and sleepy in an instance, and she falls asleep.  
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇  
The next day, at breakfast, Zeus flies in with all his glory, just before the rest of the owls, and perches on the table by her hand, a letter attached to his leg. 

'Sapphire,  
Heard what you did for us from Cissy. We owe you, so if you need anything, even just to talk to some intelligent people (which I doubt there are many at Hogwarts, full of the wrong sort). You know where to send it, and if not, ask Sev.   
See you soon, Hermione, and thank you again for the favour.  
Ori.' 

Hermione starts giggling, her cheeks flushed with amusement, at how even simple vague words and a clever little play on common knowledge fooled the Ministry's checking of the mail.  
Bellatrix, a star within the constellation of Orion, often latinized to 'Gamma Ori'.   
Hermione feels something warm in her chest, and she smiles because she believes it's because of the fact that Narcissa has her sister back, that she might actually get to meet her dad at Christmas this year.   
Luna skips over, and reads over the letter, ignoring the looks she gets from her housemates for being so comfortable at the Slytherin table.   
Luna starts to chuckle, then peals of laughter erupt from her small frame, and Hermione hugs the girl to muffle her own giggling in her shoulder.   
They stood together, the letter clutched to Hermione's heart, and ran down the halls to the room of requirement.   
The room, for them, was empty, but the floor was soft and cushioned, and when they laid down, the ceiling changed to let them see the stars. Luna hums softly, and Hermione stares into the dark swirling stars above, her hands on the letter, and she feels better than she has in years.  
She gets to meet Bellatrix! And Rodolphus, and Rabastan.  
And her dad. Her actual dad, the man who created her, the man who she was stolen from.  
Hermione is so excited to meet him, to maybe give him a hug, to ask him about her mother and what she was like.  
She will finally be home when she sees him.  
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇  
It's two weeks before Christmas when the Daily Proohet headline states, in block letters, "Deatheater Avery Gets The Dementor's Kiss". 

And really, things go downhill from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Frankie, for putting up with my bullshit.  
> I love you, cariño.


	6. Sapphire, Indigo, Crimson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione meets Bellatrix for the first time.

To say that people were worried for Hermione was an understatement.   
The girl had read the paper, and those who cared enough to pay attention saw a split second of absolute agony flash across her tan face before it was smoothed over.  
"Oh good, he was caught." She says, and eyebrows raise all across the hall, but she lets nothing slip.  
Not even Luna and Draco, blondes side by side with her in the ROR, were able to get her to let the mask go enough to grieve.   
Umbridge is the only one who came close to breaking her self preservation fuelled numbness, keeping her behind after class for a cup of tea, and leaning forward to pat the girl's hand.  
"You and I both know that your father was a bad egg in the end, but still, it is healthy to grieve for him, dear. I am grieving too, I loved him once." She said, and Hermione hated the woman less in that moment, sipping the tea and squeezing the hand offered.  
Dolores Umbridge, of all people, seemed to somewhat get it, and was content to sit in a comfortable silence with the teenager who was staring away into space. 

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

Hermione curled up against Draco on the train home for Christmas, reading a book that Bellatrix had sent.  
The woman had sent more letters, and while the abyss sucking Hermione's soul out prevented her from replying, Bella didn't seem to mind.  
The letters were short, the longest only four paragraphs, but there were a comfort just for her that Hermione cherished.  
"We get to meet Bellatrix tomorrow." Draco mused, and Hermione detected some nervousness in his tone. The girl knew it the insecurities the boy had about being good enough, about being worthy, that maybe his aunt would not like him.  
Hermione pulls out the letter in her pocket, the latest, and she regrets taking so long to show him.  
She shoves it into his hands and watches him read it, his eyebrows raising and his mouth twitching upwards.  
'Tell the little dragon that I love him, okay?' is what Bellatrix had said, and Hermione forgot until now, but she watched the tension bleed from her brother and she smiles.  
"She is going to love you, Draco." She tells him, and the boy nods smiling, before smirking at her.  
"She's gonna love you too." He says, and Hermione rolls her eyes.  
"Of course she will, she's mad and violent, and so am I." She tells him, and the boy looks up to the sky as if asking Merlin why he liked her so much when she was such an idiot.  
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇  
"Draco!" A shrill screech erupts from the parlour when they enter the manor, and a woman with bouncing black curls and the look of someone who had been starved for years rans to scoop the still somewhat short teen into her arms. The boy pinked in his cheeks, but he buried himself into the embrace like a child finally returning home. He clung to his aunt like he did as a baby, gripping her thin body as tight as he felt comfortable doing. The woman had only been free a few weeks, and was still mostly skin and bones. Draco could feel every single one of her ribs against his arms, and it made him feel a little ill.  
Finally, he let go, and went to greet his father and his uncles Rabastan and Rodolphus with his mother.  
Leaving Hermione alone with Bellatrix.  
"Hello, Hermione." The woman said, all madness and glee but somehow it was melancholy too.   
Hermione knew what this was about. She knew it was about her father, and how his soul had been sucked out before she had been reunited with him.  
She was fine, Hermione told herself.  
But she was always good at lying, especially to herself. But apparently she couldn't lie when faced with raven curls and grey eyes, because a sob bubbled up into her throat, hot and angry and it burnt.  
Bellatrix reaches out. Maybe to tug her intoa hug, maybe to wipe the traitors tear that falls down her cheek.  
"Don't! Please don't touch me." Hermione screeched, and she regrets it when she sees the slightest flash of hurt cross Bellatrix's pale face. But it smoothed over, and Bellatrix retracts her hand.  
"Its okay, Hermione. To feel this, to be grieving." The woman says softly, and Hermione realises all at once that she was wrong along with everyone else.  
"I'm not sad, Ori." She says, quietly, and the woman raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to say what she is feeling. It is a stark difference to the mad facade the woman wears.  
"What are you then, Sweetling?" She asks when Hermione takes too long to answer.   
"Angry. I want to hurt them, I want to make everyone who hurt my family bleed. And that scares me." She says softly, and Bellatrix gathers her up in her arms.  
"There is nothing to fear in that, dove. Every ounce of rage, of bloodlust - that is the gift your father and mother gave you, that is part of them that will never leave you. Not can it be taken. It means you are an Avery and that everyone who hurts your family will pay. And mark my words, sweetling, they will pay for harming your father. Our Lord favoured him as much as he favoured myself and Snape." The woman whispered into Hermione's curls, and Hermione finally let herself go.  
Sobs full of rage and heartache and fear bubbled up from her lips and Bellatrix let them all make a mess of her dress - tears and snot and spit likely soaking the front but the woman hummed softly. A lullaby, by the sound of it, and slowly, Hermione put herself back together.  
She cleared her throat awkwardly, and gave a grimace.  
"Sorry, I swear I didn't mean to fall apart on you." She says to the woman, who shakes her head softly.  
"No need for that, sweetling." Bellatrix assured her, and guides her to where the others are waiting. 

"Little Avery!" A tall man with ash blonde hair bounds up to her like a hyper dog, smiling wide, and gathers her into his arms.  
"Rabastan, get off her, you great lump. She looks like she might hex you." Narcissa giggles, moving to pull her ward from the tight embrace.  
"Sorry, who are you?" Hermione spits out, as politely as she can manage while as disgruntled as she was.  
"This is your godfather, Rabastan Lestrange. He was your father's best friend." Lucius says softly, and Hermione relaxes, and let's the man move forward to cup her chin in his hands.  
"I'm so sorry that I couldn't save your mother or father. But I will save you, Hermione." The man promises, and Hermione looks into his big green eyes and believes that he is telling the truth.  
"Nice to meet you, Uncle Rabastan." She tries out the title, and the smiles on all the faces in the room makes the awkwardness of it on her tongue worth it.   
"Come along, I called for tea. Its been a long few weeks." Draco says, pulling Hermione to his side once more.  
Hermione doesn't notice that she has not let go of Bellatrix's hand yet.  
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇  
Hermione wears a green dress this time, embroidered with silver and bronze, and she walks proud behind her guardians, professor and godfather.   
She isn't afraid, as she thinks she should be. But why would she be? Voldemort had been nothing but lovely to her when she had visited for her lesson, and the book he had given her had proved most useful in researching how to destroy Umbridge.  
The door open to reveal Wormtail, and Hermione cringed away when his hand ran across her lower back. She was grateful for the hiss Bellatrix gave the rodent-like man, and for how it made his arm retract from her. 

"Ah, Miss Avery. It is a pleasure to see you again." Voldemort greets her after the adults with her, and Hermione dips into a short bow.  
"You too, my Lord." She says sweetly, and he chuckles distantly.  
The meeting is routine, boring, but Hermione listens keen about how they are trying to retrieve the prophecy from the ministry, and is pleased to note that Arthur Weasley had been attacked by Nagini.   
She liked the twins, and little Ginny Weasley, but the rest of them were cruel to her ever since she got into Slytherin, so why should she feel anything else?  
Speaking of Nagini, the snake curled herself around one of the candlesticks, the hot metal warming her skin, and her tongue flicked out every now and then. She seemed to be analysing Hermione, but hadn't struck yet so Hermione assumed she was safe. She was fascinated by the snake, which seemed to hum with energy that made her skin prickle. She wondered what exactly it was. 

Narcissa watched from across the table, exchanging glances with her Lord when she watched her sister watch her daughter.   
Only Narcissa and the Dark Lord seemed to see the edges of their aura changing.  
Sapphire blue that belonged to Hermione was turning indigo purple at the edges at the side that it met crimson red.  
A red that belonged to Bellatrix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Frankie for putting up with my bullshit.  
> Te quiero, cariño ♡.


	7. in (y)our blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione celebrates Yule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yule.  
> Mentions of cutting in the context of a ritual, and also blood tasting. It's not as weird as it sounds lmao.   
> This ritual is deliberately kind of dark, most pagans and worshippers of Hekate do no do these things.   
> Enjoy!

Hermione does not sleep 

These past few years, she has researched and read everything she could on magic and religion. Christmas and Easter and all the rest seeming pointless and empty to her, always had done, but now she knows of her magic, the emptiness echoes within her.  
It feels wrong. It feels like a betrayal, to something or someone.   
So, on the night of Yule, the Longest Night, Hermione sits awake.  
Narcissa, Lucius, Draco and Bellatrix have gone to sleep long ago, and Hermione stayed by the roaring fire under the pretense that she wanted to keep reading. She was given well wishes and gentle affections, and left to her books.   
She wishes one of them was with her, but the old religion of the witches is almost gone, only found in the oldest, most rotten books coated in dust.   
Not even most pureblood families practised it anymore, just Hermione Avery on her own, knelt on sore knees before the fire, watching the flames flicker and the wood crack.   
She clicks her fingers, and waits for the pop of an elf to appear, watching it's big doe eyes observe her.   
"Bring me some bread, honey, grapes and cheese. And some goblin-made wine, please." She orders softly, and the elf nods and disappears with the same noise as when it appeared.  
As she waits, Hermione organises her supplies that sit beside her on a velvet green cushion. A small copper bowl, a sharp knife, a small pouch of shiny coins, and paper and a quill. All what she needed for this night.  
It was different to do it here, than when she had done it at Hogwarts last year. With all the bullshit about the Triwizard Tournament going on, they had not been allowed to return home and Hermione had been furious. She did not care for balls and pretty dresses, she wanted to see Narcissa and Lucius, to dive into their arms and be at peace once more.   
That is not to say that she had entirely hated the dance, she did love being stared and lusted after by boys and girls alike, all of whom had no chance of ever being worthy of her.   
Narcissa had sent her a beautiful gown of black and silver, enchanted to float about her gracefully. The dress showed her spine, open backed, and she remembered the snake themed chain that ran down the length of it, looking like a snake crawling up her spine.   
Hermione had been the Belle of the ball, and no one could deny it. Her date, Victor Krum, had been enchanted by her, and she had a pleasurable night after she had avoided Potter and Weasley. The pair of them seemed to hate her with each passing year, and Hermione assured them that the feeling was entirely mutual. 

Hermione is brought out of her musings by the elf returning, the tray set beside her kneeling form. She dismissed it, and she took a moment to breathe, to steady herself.  
"Sweetling?" Hermione jumps out of her skin when she hears the raspy, deep but somehow melodic voice of Bellatrix.   
She has no idea what to do, she can't exactly hide everything now that Bellatrix is in the room and has seen it.  
"Hello, Bella." She decides on, and the woman chuckles warmly, sinking to her knees beside Hermione.  
"Yule ritual?" She asks, and Hermione stares. She thought that knowledge of this magic had died out.   
"How do you know about it?"   
Bellatrix smiles, tucks a curl behind her ear and reaches to pop a grape into her mouth. She chews slowly, almost certainly teasing her and testing Hermione's patience, but she finally swallows and answers.  
"The noble house of Black has kept such traditions for centuries, where they have died out elsewhere, they live on in us. Along with the Blacks, the Averys and the Lovegoods keep it alive. It's in your blood, Hermione." She explained, and Hermione arches her brows.  
"My father did this too?" She asked, and Bellatrix looks sad for a moment.  
"He was devout to the old faith, even in Azkaban, he prayed to the Dark Goddess each day. He offered half his food even when it was killing him to starve. And the goddess protected him from the dementors, I believe that, as otherwise he was weak and passionate and would have been taken or driven mad by them. But she cannot protect us from everything, and gods cannot control humans, so when he was caught, it was all she could do to make his Kiss as painless and quick as possible."   
Hermione swallows around that information, about the goddess that really does exist in the eyes of herself, Bellatrix and her father.   
"The Dark Goddess. You mean Hekate, right?" She asks, and the ravenette beside her nods.   
"Do you mind if I join in your ritual, dove? I believe it has been far too long since I have been devout enough. I must do better." Bellatrix asks, and her face shows that she would hold no grudge if Hermione says no. But Hermione would love nothing more, and says as such.  
So side by side, they watch the flames, and time the minutes until the witching hour began.   
The clock strikes one, and it begins.   
Bellatrix follows Hermione's lead, it's her ritual and Bellatrix doesn't even know if she remembers how to lead her own anymore.   
They lay out the soft cloths, the copper bowl in the centre, the food and wine to the left and the knife, the coins and the paper to the right.   
The air changes, it seems heavier, more charged. It's time.  
"When I doubt, show me my strength;   
When I am wrong, show me the right path; Light the crossroads before me, that I may see my way.  
Queen of Transitions,  
Guardian of Doorways.  
Hekate, bless my journeys through dark and dark,  
Help me bring balance to the forces within myself-  
Light and dark,  
Above and below.  
A coin cannot have only one side,  
I am not whole, one without the other."  
Hermione says it softly, not firm or steady in the least, but the prayer still feels right. The fire crackles on, and it's heat washes over them as Bellatrix repeats her words perfectly, their hands clasped together.  
Hermione has no idea when they had done that, but she takes comfort in the warm grip of the older woman's hand.   
The prayer is old, and the words don't make sense to her at some points, but it doesn't need to. Maybe it makes sense to the goddess they are praying to, she hopes that it does.  
"Hekate, please accept these offerings and bring us good fortune and triumph in the coming seasons. Please continue to guide us, nurture us and love us." She asks next, pushing the food, coins and parchment and quill closer to the side.  
The fire pops loudly, sparks erupting, and Hermione feels a foreign euphoria come over her. She feels that Hekate accepts their gifts.   
Next is the bit she isn't sure Bellatrix will be okay with, but they're too late now to stop.  
Hermione lifts the knife and slices a clean, deep cut across her forearm. The blood is dark and shiny as it pours from her slowly, and she moves her arm over the bowl.   
Bellatrix says nothing, watching big droplets of red land in the copper bowl.  
Hermione heals the cut and cleans the knife, handing it to the woman. Bellatrix eyes her for a moment, before she does the same, and adds her blood to Hermione's in the bowl.   
She heals herself, and cleans the knife again, before gesturing for Hermione to finish the ritual.  
"Thank you for all you do for us, goddess. We bid you farewell, and hope you will be with us when we are in need. Happy Yule, Our Lady." She says, and the fire extinguishes itself with a gentle sound, now just embers and ash.   
Hermione grins, though she is suddenly shaking with cold without the fire, and Bellatrix wraps a blanket over her.   
"You missed a drop." Bellatrix says, swiping her finger over the now-healed cut and coming away red with blood.   
Before Hermione can speak, Bellatrix licks it off her finger, humming softly. She seems to enjoy the taste, and Hermione stares in half-horror, half-interest.   
"Blood is powerful, sweetling. Every last drop is magical, and to waste even a little is a crime. Blood is where our magic is, it is what keeps us pure, it is the most ethereal thing about wizard-kind." Bellatrix tells her softly, and Hermione frowns as she thinks on it.   
It's a reasonable way to think of it, she assumes, then she spots a drop of missed blood on Bellatrix. She swipes it up and tastes it, copper and salt across her tongue, but not entirely disgusting. It hums on her tongue with power, and Hermione understands what Bellatrix meant then, as it turns through her as she swallows the drop down. 

They share the goblet of wine between them, speaking softly, and after half an hour, the ritual requirement of letting the deity feed off the energy of the offering ends, which leaves them free to feast on the food between them.  
Bellatrix tries to toss grapes into Hermione's open mouth, missing every single one, which Hermione smears honey across the woman's nose as she laughs.   
They talk of their childhoods, of what it was like with muggles compared to Druella Black, of their first accidental magic uses.   
Bellatrix looks proud when she tells of how she used her magic to harm someone who harmed her, and she pulls the girl close to her side, kisses her hair and tells her that pride and vengeance is in her blood, in her magic.  
Hermione, content and half asleep, believes the woman.  
She falls asleep with her lap in Bellatrix's lap, with the ravenette not far behind, and neither of them wake until Narcissa finds them the next morning.  
Unbeknownst to each other, they both dream of the woman, coated in stars, who they now know has a name.  
Hekate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Frankie, for dealing with my dumb bitch ass.   
> And to Zara, for fueling me all week with gay Kryssandra fanfiction.


End file.
